


A Goddamn Delight

by viktorcerise



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Size Difference, Weight Issues, mention of weight loss, really do not know how to tag this tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 12:10:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3936250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viktorcerise/pseuds/viktorcerise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heavy's insecure about himself, and Scout tries to make it better. Mostly fluff with a sprinkling of angst and smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Goddamn Delight

**Author's Note:**

> i am Not Good at fluff, usually, but i seemed to have managed to keep myself from steering straight into the Porno Mountains this time! 
> 
> i noticed, while flipping through A Cold Day recently, that Heavy's family is made of big-boned body types - people with a physique geared towards heavy lifting and that sort of hard work. he's probably not had a ton of experience with the featherweight that is Scout, who has the exact opposite build. 
> 
> anyway here goes, constructive criticism appreciated, &c &c

Scout tumbles onto Heavy's bed, stretching luxurious as a cat before stripping to the waist. He tosses his shirt aside, leans back onto his elbows, and watches the bigger man undress. 

First comes the vest, as always, empty shell casings and other bits of metal clinking as the Russian drapes it over a chair. Scout rakes his eyes over Heavy's form, noticing how without the collar of the vest to break up his silhouette, he seems – titanic, looming, with shoulders broad enough to lift the whole sky if the man so chose to. Scout shivers, delighted, and bites his lip as Heavy's fingers lift the edge of his shirt. 

The Russian's mouth crooks into a fond smile, and he pauses in undressing to stroke Scout's flushed cheek with the back of his hand. 

“I am liking that look,” he says, and draws off his shirt before Scout can lean into his touch. This, too, he neatly sets aside, and Scout would almost have felt guilty about just throwing his own clothes around, but then Heavy plants his hands on either side of his head and then his lips are too busy on the bigger man's mouth to utter a word.

Scout finds his hands skimming over Heavy's shoulders, appreciating the sheer breadth of them. He shudders as he feels the span of Heavy's fingers spread across his back to draw the runner's body to his while he trails warm kisses down Scout's neck. Scout moans and his hips buck up while Heavy runs a barrage of gentle nips and sucks down to his chest. He slides broad fingertips over the lines of Scout's ribs while his lips close over the rim of his collarbone – and that earns him another moan and Scout's lithe form arcing off the bed. 

The runner collapses by inches back down onto the coverlet, and he becomes aware after a moment that Heavy's touches have stopped and the big man is just looking at him. 

Scout raises a hand and cups Heavy's jaw. “Everything okay?” he says. 

Heavy just smiles. 

“Is fine. Am only looking at you.” 

The runner watches as the Russian's eyes trace down the lines of his body – man, of course he wanted to look, everyone was checkin' him out, naturally – and it's when Heavy raises a gentle hand and strokes over Scout's stomach that realization dawns. Now he lifts his own hands and lays them on Heavy's chest, feeling the tectonic movements of his muscles beneath his skin, then slides his touch down lower, to the slope of the Russian's stomach. His core, Scout muses, is probably rock-solid, built up from years of lifting and labour, but like most truly strong men, Heavy has softness padding him out. Good thing, too, otherwise it'd be like sleeping with a sack full of boulders. 

Now Heavy sighs a bit, putting one hand over Scout's and squeezing. Scout frowns and pushes against him, and the bigger man sits back on his haunches. He looks almost sheepish, as if the runner's caught him doing something untoward.

“Aw, don't be like that, big guy,” Scout says in what he hopes are reassuring tones. He sits up and throws his arms around Heavy's neck, resting his head on the man's pectorals. “Don't tell me you're jealous of a skinny runt like me.”

Heavy snorts. “Am not jealous, little Scout. Am just...wishing there were less of me, you see?” His free hand gestures along the curve of his belly, as if he could wish some of it away.

Scout nips him on the chest and the Russian jumps a bit. 

“Don't be silly,” the runner says, nuzzling against him. “Every single piece of you is a goddamn delight, got it?” 

Heavy kisses the top of his head. “Pretty boys like you should have boyfriends just as pretty,” he says. “Not slow fat men like me.”

Scout bites him again and slides down, face pressed against him, until his head is resting on Heavy's stomach. It's soft and warm, and like most of the Russian, has a liberal dusting of dark hair. A glance up reveals that Heavy is blushing. Scout leans back and crosses his arms.

“Well, maybe pretty boys like me enjoy big strong men like you,” he says, and puts his hand back on the Russian's chest, then straddles his thigh. “Besides, I ain't never had a lover as comfy as you to lie on top of before.”

That got him a smile and another kiss, and one of Heavy's enormous hands slipping under his trousers to grip his hip. Scout shifts until he's positive Heavy can feel his hard-on pressed against his stomach, then cranes his neck to Heavy's ear and drops his voice to a lascivious whisper. 

“And if you really wanna slim down, why not burn off some calories by fucking me 'til we both can't move?”


End file.
